


imagery you've seen before

by ryseling



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Denial, Gen, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character Injury, POV Beauregard Lionett, Spoilers For Episode 98 Of Campaign 2, implied future resurrection, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23105107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryseling/pseuds/ryseling
Summary: Beau cannot see any of them.All she can see is Fjord.The world hasn't ended by the time the battle is over, but it may as well have.
Relationships: Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Fjord & The Mighty Nein
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108





	imagery you've seen before

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write angst without a resolution / hurt without comfort, but I was possessed very suddenly at 1am and was not released until I had written this out, so here we are. 
> 
> I am very much still processing what happened in this episode, because like. Holy shit. This is that but with more denial and anger, because Beau is famously bad at feelings and the Brjeaus are real important to me.

The rain is pouring down around them, the sky is still thundering, and the boat rocks and rolls under their feet with the crashing of the restless waves. Maybe the waters are roiling with more of those creatures rising from the deep, or maybe they are shaken by Uk’otoa itself, unsatisfied. Caduceus and Jester are already scrambling for their packs, scrambling for diamonds, uttering fervent prayers to their patrons for assistance, for guidance, for _help_. Nott is screaming, somewhere, distantly, and Caleb is talking, or maybe casting a spell, perhaps something to try to ward off any further attacks, while Yasha is a silent wraith behind all of them, dark and rain-soaked and caught between trying to help and trying to stay out of the way. The rest of the crew - the rest of them left _alive_ \- are somewhere, too, maybe approaching by now, maybe even trying to demand answers as to what was going on.

Beau cannot see any of them.

All she can see is Fjord.

The wound in his chest goes _through_ him - that creature’s blade pierced all the way to the wood of the deck, through his body. Beau can see the edges of a few of his ribs, the bottom edge of his breastbone. She can see where organs were severed and flesh was gouged out by the slight curve of the falchion’s blade. She can see blood, spreading out beneath his body on the dark wood of the deck, diluted by the rainwater but spreading a wider and wider stain. The tattered remains of Fjord’s shirt still cling loosely to his shoulders and waist, also bloodstained, and she thinks she sees red bubbled up around the stark white jut of his tusks, too.

It’s grotesque. His eyes are wide and slightly whitened, like the rain had washed the color out of them - like he had been a corpse for some time already. His face is frozen in a soundless gasp for air that has been torn from him. Like he _drowned_ again, miles below the surface where he had nothing and no one else to protect him.

Beau can feel the blood pounding in her ears. She can feel her fists clenching. She can feel her whole body shaking. She has been angry before in her life, but never before has she felt so horribly, righteously, savagely _furious_.

_You just got done telling me how stupid it was for me to try and leave_ , she thinks, the first fully lucid thing that has entered her mind since she was yanked to consciousness amidst all of this chaos.

She can feel herself moving closer while the clerics work, can feel herself kneeling beside her friend (beside his body, his _dead body_ , fuck, she might throw up), can feel herself reach out to put a hand on Fjord’s shoulder, just this small point of contact, _something_.

(He’s so fucking _cold_ , already, the bile climbs the back of her throat and her eyes _burn_.)

_Don’t you fucking leave_ , she thinks fiercely, even as her vision blurs and she can’t see Fjord clearly anymore, as he becomes an indistinguishable smudge of green and red in her eyes. She knows he’s gone, already, no pulse or breath left in him, but she still thinks it, still thinks, _You haven’t peaked yet either_ , and _I don’t want to be captain_ , and _please, please don’t leave_.

The others are moving around her again, and she thinks someone might be calling her name. She grips Fjord’s shoulder tighter and grits her teeth, tears biting into her face when they fall even as the rain continues to drench them both.

_Nobody goes_ , Beau thinks with desperation, with finality, and something in her chest howls, high and sharp and anguished, with the scream of the storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on [ Tumblr](https://ryseling.tumblr.com), I'm dying too


End file.
